Shadow Play......

Last week I  joined an OSHER tour of Milwaukee Institute of Art & Design's 2016 Senior Exhibition. What a terrific experience! Seniors majoring in printmaking, sculpture, photography, communication design, industrial design, painting, drawing and more were on hand to answer questions and explain their projects.

We wandered from gallery to gallery and I was impressed over and over again with the concepts, inventions, presentations and inspirations on display. Talking with the students was so interesting. And some of them, I think, should just take their ideas and go straight to "Shark Tank"!

But then I turned a corner and walked into sculptor Brook Lynn Cleven's herd of deer. My jaw dropped. They were amazing, darling, lifelike, surreal.....and I would have taken any one or more of them home.

I talked to Brook and she explained the process.....how she creats the bodies and incorporates the long branches as legs. The expressive faces, the cocked ears, the bright eyes. I told her I wished she could set them up along a path in the woods somewhere so that hikers would come upon them by accident! A double-take for sure.

I'm always drawn to any art where shadow plays a part and here, in the gathering of four fawns, shadow was the final piece of the composition. As I walked by them, back and forth, shadows shifted and moved, adding another life-like element.

Milwaukee certainly is lucky to be home to MIAD. And this exhibit runs until May14th. So if you live anywhere in the area and are ready to explore something just a little different do plan to drive down to the Third Ward and take advantage of the opportunity.

I'm going again next year.

Saying Goodbye.....Saying Hello.....

The cycle of life -  it's happening every day, all day all around the world. People die. Babies are born. Grief and happiness. Phone calls from family or friends who let you know about sad news.....or glad news.

One of our family members lost an elderly aunt today......I didn't know her. We may have met at a wedding, but I honestly don't remember. But her family and friends will be gathering over the weekend to celebrate a long-life-well-lived. Sharing hugs and memories and laughter and tears to support one another in their grief.

And then there was the happy text later in the morning that announced our immediate family was now seven pounds four ounces bigger. Family and friends will gather to celebrate this special new arrival. Sharing hugs and laughter and tears.....and plans for a bright future.

Saying good bye, saying hello. One is so hard....the other so joyous.

Welcome to this beautiful world sweet Baby James.

Nothing to Say......

What do you say when there is absolutely nothing you can say? What do you say when you see someone you haven't seen for awhile in a social setting and while making small talk find that she's suffered an un-imaginable loss?

What do you say to a mother who adult son is senselessly murdered in his apartment building in Chicago? What do you say when she stand in front of you, eyes becoming moist, and tells you that another man in his building got angry, went to his own apartment, got his gun, came back to the building's exercise room and shot her son in the head while he was using the eliptical machine.

"He was dead before he hit the floor, and then the guy shot him in the chest."

Really.....what do you say as your jaw drops, your own eyes tear up and you just stand there.

I don't know her well....just through my volunteer connection at a local museum. But I could see her pain......I could feel her pain, it just seemed to radiate from within. All I could do was say I was so terribly sorry while I gave her a hug.

What on earth do you say in a situation like this.....a situation that happens to "others".

A senseless, cruel, forever loss that will haunt her for the rest of her life.

What do you say?

It's in the Genes.....

My mom was very artistic. She had talent. My sister and I found notebooks filled with sketches done when she was very young. And she received a full ride scholarship to go to the Chicago Art Institute after high school. All she had to do was buy her own supplies. I don't know what that would have cost at the time, but she couldn't do it. Her family could not afford the supplies.....so she went on to get secretarial training instead.

Sometimes I think about that. A love of art.....a true talent.....but a budget so tight that there was no "extra" to purchase needed art supplies. I think about that and then I think about how fortunate my sister and I were as we grew up under different circumstances.

I had an interest in art but in high school was going through "college prep" courses such as algebra, biology, history, English, French etc. with no time for any of the "fun stuff". Finally, my senior year, I had a free hour and could take my first art class and I loved it. But it was just for fun and quickly dropped as I went off to college.

Years later, when our daughter demonstrated an early talent (according to her grade school teachers) I was determined to support this ability and Dave agreed. So we took her to evening art classes during grade school and while in high school she had the chance to be an art major with two periods of art every day. Then she was selected to attend a summer program at Trenton State College with other young artists from across the state. And she went to college and majored in graphic design. So Megan was able to follow her muse....at least partially.

Now, as an adult, Meg's art is flowering and changing and growing and developing. Her imagination puts images paper and creates something new in the world. And we are so proud of her and I know my mom would be thrilled.

Meg was part of Milwaukee's Third World Gallery Night last weekend and we drove down to see her exhibit. It was one of those parental pride moments. A brief moment where you just stand aside and look at what "you've" created....this talented woman. (And pretend that your allergies are bothering me as you grope for a kleenex in the bottom of your purse.)

She's an artist. It's in the genes.

Back Exercises......

Dave and I both "enjoy" back aches.....but then so do most of my friends. You reach a certain age and it's almost a given. And we've been to physical therapy over the years and we each have a set of exercises we do. At least we do them pretty religiously until our backs feel better and then we sort of "forget".

So we are now both back on the rug doing our stretching and bending and counting etc. And we have a personal PT helper.

After all, anything on the floor is in Fenway's territory. So the minute Dave or I creak and groan our way down to the carpet he runs to his toy basket and brings us a gift. We're on his floor, we certainly should be able to throw his ball! He will literally drop it on your face to get your attention. And if you do manage to grab it and give it a toss he races away only to bring it back....again and again and again.

Therefore I share with you a lovely photo of me (the angle displays the double chin area) and my helper. Head cocked....."What do you mean it's not time to play?"

And He Went to College......

Funny how a memory will suddenly rush into your mind. Pops out of nowhere, prompted by something you see or smell or hear.

Yesterday I reached up on top of the wardrobe cupboard in our bedroom to grab a quilt and my old teddy bear tumbled down. Picking him up, dusting him off a bit....and remembering. Somewhere I knew I had a picture of me as a toddler with this bear. Digging through a box and there is was, proof positive that my teddy bear is almost as old as I am. My mom probably took the snapshot and I was probably about 18 months old? There he sits, fresh and new.....right next to a stuffed monkey.

I don't have many memories of actually playing with the bear, but somewhere along the line he got a very fancy name. He's always been Randolf Jeremiah! I wonder where that came from?? I'm sure during my growing-up years he was tossed into toy boxes, sat on my bed, was forgotten for awhile in a box somewhere. But Randolf Jeremiah hung on....and stayed with me.

He even went to college. For four years he shared my dorm room at Ripon. I'm not sure why I brought him, but I did.....every year.

And now he sits on top of the cupboard in our bedroom. Certainly a bit worn and threadbare in a few places. But he still looks like himself.....soft, cuddly, bright button eyes watching. Randolf Jeremiah I'm glad I kept you.....through all the moves, the houses, the years of raising children and working and now retirement. A stuffed and steady presence.....a warm memory.

Presenting Randolf Jeremiah.......in all his well-worn glory.

Going to the Dogs.......

When you are a quilter you end up with lots of little pieces that you trim off when finishing any project. Little pieces of fabric. Small sections of batting. Lots of extra thread ends. And usually these "schnibbles" go into the trash.

I found a new use for them and my friends at North Shore Quilt Guild are helping me re-purpose our left-overs. We now stuff pillowcases (also made from un-wanted or left-over fabric) and take these pet beds to our local Humane Societies. The staff there is happy to take them in and use them for kittens, puppies, gerbils, rabbits....whatever. We don't care - just another way to share the wealth and meet a community need.

Plus it's nice to know that even the smallest pieces of sometimes very-expensive fabric doesn't have to go to waste!

Time for a run to my local Humane Society.....the back of our car is full.